4 Control
by BML Hillen-Keene
Summary: Nearly over now. Just one more after this one and I will end my evilness. Is it possible to destroy a family? Scott's turn.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing_

…**Control**

_Prologue_

"Ok Gordon, just… just step back, just a few step's. We can talk. Come on. Please, let's just talk." Scott's eyes darted from the edge of the cliff to his brother, hands itching to reach out and grab him. Pull him back to safety. But every step he took forward just drove Gordon closer and closer to the edge, so he was left standing here, watching, thinking furiously for something… anything, that would get Gordon away from the cliff and back to him.

"Come on little brother, just come back here. Ok? Come back where it's safe."

Gordon didn't answer, and Scott doubted he would. Gordon didn't speak to him,

"Please Gordon…" he trailed off, chewing on his lip as he tried to come up with a way to stall him, at least until John got up here. Gordon listened to John.

His eyes widened as Gordon made a sudden move forward, and he unthinkingly moved forward himself before he froze, and could just watch, anxiety rising as Gordon's toes curled over the edge of the cliff, sending the loose dirt and stones tumbling into the sea below.

Don't Gordon, please don't jump! He begged silently.

"Come on Gordon, you'll upset John if you don't stay up here, over here with me. I know you don't want to upset him. Just come over to me Gordon. Please."

Gordon shuffled back an inch, and Scott breathed a little easier, taking it as a sign Gordon was going to come back to him.

What happened next he would never be able to repeat, it just happened so fast. Too fast.

Gordon jumped.

Scott's body moved before his mind had the chance to catch up and he dived, desperate to grab his brother. All the while fearing he was too late.

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_Disclaimer: I own nothing_


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Own nothing at all_

Chapter 1

Scott paused to check through the travel bag once more, making sure everything was packed. When he glanced towards the door, to reassure himself that John and Gordon had not yet left, he felt his heart pang a little.

It had been months now, and the doctors were pleased with Gordon's progress, so much so that they had agreed to a two days a week on the island for a few weeks to see how he would adjust to being home.

John was still the only one Gordon would go to, the only one he would allow to touch him and Scott felt no jealousy there, only shame. It was his own fault that Gordon did not recognise him as another source of safety and love. Those first few weeks had been crucial to re-establishing bonds, and Scott had spent those burying himself in work to escape the reality of what had happened to his family.

But since John's breakdown Scott had stepped up to bat, and though a lot of his time was devoted to the company, refusing to let it fall to the wayside, he had developed a routine of visiting Gordon three or four times a week. To this very day he didn't know how John visited everyday, it was just so painful.

This was to be the first time any of them would spend all day with Gordon since it had happened, and it would be wrong of him to think that it would not be hard. These next two days would likely be the most difficult they had faced in a long, long time, the doctors had said as much, and prepared them for it. The medicine burned a hole in Scott's pocket, most of it sedatives in case they needed to get him back to the hospital quickly.

"Are we ready to go?" he asked, zipping the bag up, and putting on a cheerful smile.

Gordon did not look at him, but the hand he had fisted in John's coat tightened a little. John on the other hand was practically beaming, and Scott was glad he was happy about this; he had worked so very, very hard to get Gordon to this point.

"Ok." Scott nodded. "Let's go home."

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	3. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

"Is he alright?" Virgil asked Scott when his disembarked from the small plane.

Scott looked at the retreating figures of John and Gordon; they had decided that they wouldn't overwhelm Gordon too soon with people and things, so John had quickly hustled Gordon away from the plane and to the house, and to his room.

"Which one?" he asked, turning his gaze to Virgil. His younger brother was practically oozing nervousness. He was fully recovered now from the stab wound that had nearly killed him. Thinks between him and John had thankfully evened out, enough that John did not always look so stricken and guilty whenever they were in the same room together.

Virgil, Scott knew, was still struggling with two sets of guilt, he still felt guilty that he had not killed the Hood when he'd had the chance; and no amount of talking could convince him to let it go. But that warred with the guilt over John, and the belief that his actions alone had driven John to his breakdown; which wasn't the case of course, too many things had contributed to that, Scott himself playing a more than equal part.

"Both of them." Virgil responded.

"John's happy." He answered the easy one first. "He's glad to have him back. And Gordon is… Well, he's Home." Scott really hoped that Virgil understand his meaning.

Virgil nodded.

"Dad?" Scott asked, though he really didn't want to, didn't want to think of his father wasting away in that damnable room, unmoveable. But he had made a promise to John that he wouldn't have to deal with everything anymore, and that stretched to include Virgil as well, who had been alone in dealing with their father for two days now.

"The same. Got him to eat a little at dinner."

Scott nodded. Their father's condition had worsened since his return from the hospital, but there was nothing they or the hospital could do for him, so they were forced to watch as he slowly killed himself. "I'll take him his breakfast tomorrow."

Virgil nodded and Scott gave him a reassuring smile. "Come on, things are looking up. Gordon's home for a few days. And tomorrow we can do something fun."

"Will it help?" Virgil asked.

Scott pulled him in for a short hug. "We can only hope so."

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	4. Chapter 3

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The night passed too quickly for Scott, who woke too often to imagined noises, and found himself standing outside Gordon's door, hand resting on the door knob every time, debating with himself over whether he should open the door to check on him. Each time he had decided against it and returned to his bed, only to repeat the process an hour or so later when he woke again.

At six, just as the sun was starting to rise, he decided to forgo another attempt at sleep, and take his father some breakfast.

Making the breakfast was easy. Forcing himself to travel the house to the small room right at the back overlooking the small beach that his father had lain claim to the moment he returned was more difficult.

It did not take long for his feet to travel the well known hallway, but he hesitated, like he always did outside the door. Closing his eyes briefly he tried to prepare himself for the sight that waited for him on the other side of the door.

Of a body too thin, too still… Of silence and anguish… Of the knowledge that there was nothing he could do.

John did not come down here; not while their father was still in the room. It was the only way he could keep his little brother from another breakdown, John had not seen their father in over five months and as far as Scott was concerned, that was exactly how it should be.

Steeling himself, Scott reach out and turned the door handle, pushing the door open.

"Dad." He greeted as cheerfully as he could, taking in the listless posture, and greedy gaze focused entirely on the pale, still and silent body on the bed. "Hello Alan."

His only response was the rasp of the ventilator, and the soft beeping of the monitor.

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	5. Chapter 4

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Alan had not died.

Though sometimes Scott wondered if maybe it would have been kinder if he had.

Kinder on Dad, who sat by his bed night and day unless Scott or Virgil pried him away, not eating, barely sleeping, wasting away in suspended grief and waning hope. Kinder on Gordon, who already believed Alan was dead, who had been driven mad by that fact; one day he was going to be told that Alan was still living, held in suspended animation on the faint hope he might one day wake.

Kinder on John, who was already spread to thin trying to bring Gordon back from insanity, caring for Alan and Dad was just pushing it too far, and Scott knew that if allowed John would do everything and work himself to death caring for everyone. Kinder on Virgil, who couldn't let go of all his guilt, and maybe… just maybe if Alan were dead he could find some sort of closure.

And Kinder, maybe, on himself… Because entering this room, filled with all Alan's things, trying to convince Dad to do something, anything, other than sit there and watch for a spark of life that he had given up hope of seeing… He wanted to grieve, he wanted to cry and scream, curse God, curse himself. He wanted his father back, he wanted Gordon sane, Virgil happy and John relaxed, he wanted Alan awake… no, he wanted Alan alive, and the ventilator, the IV's, all the medical equipment packed around the bed, did not give him life… they just sucked it out of everyone else.

"Dad you need to eat." Scott said dragging his attention out of dark thoughts and to his father, setting the tray of food on the small table beside is father's chair.

"Hmm."

His father's eyes never left Alan's face, constantly searching and hoping.

Scott sighed. "Gordon's home for a few days." He tried, hoping that maybe news of Gordon's recovering health would motivate the man to leave the room, and spend some time with his other sons.

"Hmm."

Scott closed his eyes, opening them again and looking at Alan. He sighed again. "Try and eat something, I'll come back for the tray later. Ok?"

He didn't even get a response this time. "I'll visit properly later Alan, ok?" he said to his unmoving and silent brother.

The ventilator rasped, and the monitor beeped, and Scott turned to leave, opening the door.

It took a moment for his tired mind to register the presence on the other side of the door, another for him to realise just who exactly it was, and a third for the panic to hit him full blast.

"Gordon." He said, hoping against hope that Gordon had not seen inside the room, but knowing that he had. He stepped forward, letting the door swing closed and reaching out. But Gordon was already gone, running down the hall as if chased by the devil himself.

"Gordon!"

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	6. Chapter 5

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The Seconds Scott wasted frozen, the horrified, terrified and oh so very sorrowful look on Gordon's face, burning itself into his memory for all eternity, put him too far behind to even hope to catch him before he was out of the house.

But he continued after him, no time to call for backup, no time for anything except following and finding. Gordon was suicidal, not all the time, and not even consciously the doctors had told them, but the thought was there almost always, waiting for a moment of weakness of exploit.

And he had triggered it.

There was a small chance he wasn't going to try and kill himself. It was possible he just needed to get away from the house, to wrap his mind around what he had seen and what it meant. But Scott already knew this wasn't the case, could tell by the direction Gordon was taking.

As he ran he called the house, more glad than he had ever been that he had lifted his mobile by habit, and filled John in as quickly as he could, begging him to hurry before disconnecting and putting on a final burst of speed.

He came to a halt as the trees gave way to clear ground, to the most terrifying sight he had ever seen, made all the more terrifying by the fact that he didn't know if he would be able to stop it. John might have stood some chance, but John was not here, he would have to stall long enough for John to reach him.

He took a deep breath and took a step forward. "Gordon." He said, hoping to catch his brother's attention.

Gordon stepped closer to the edge.

"Ok Gordon, just… just step back, just a few steps'. We can talk. Come on. Please, let's just talk." Scott's eyes darted from the edge of the cliff to his brother, hands itching to reach out and grab him. Pull him back to safety. But every step he took forward just drove Gordon closer and closer to the edge, so he was left standing here, watching, thinking furiously for something… anything, that would get Gordon away from the cliff and back to him.

"Come on little brother, just come back here. Ok? Come back where it's safe."

Gordon didn't answer, and Scott doubted he would. Gordon never spoke to him.

"Please Gordon…" he trailed off, chewing on his lip as he tried to come up with a way to stall him, at least until John got up here. Gordon listened to John.

His eyes widened as Gordon made a sudden move forward, and he unthinkingly moved forward himself before he froze, and could just watch, anxiety rising as Gordon's toes curled over the edge of the cliff, sending the loose dirt and stones tumbling into the sea below.

Don't Gordon, please don't jump! He begged silently.

"Come on Gordon, you'll upset John if you don't stay up here, over here with me. I know you don't want to upset him. Just come over to me Gordon. Please."

Gordon shuffled back an inch, and Scott breathed a little easier, taking it as a sign Gordon was going to come back to him.

What happened next he would never be able to repeat, it just happened so fast. Too fast.

Gordon jumped.

Scott's body moved before his mind had the chance to catch up and he dived, desperate to grab his brother. All the while fearing he was too late.

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	7. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I own nothing_

I was falling. The sea rushing up to greet me, to take me into it's safe, numbing, soothing embrace. To take me away from this. From everything.

But then I stopped falling, a sudden, maddening jerk that kept me just out of reach of the rising sea, and I looked up, angry and hurt and wanting nothing more than for it to just END just STOP… I wanted it to go away, the memory, the hate, the guilt.

_"Do you remember?"_

_"That song he always sings?"_

_"Help me!"_

_"Don't be dead… please don't be dead…"_

"Gordon. Gordon please, just grab onto my arm with your other hand."

Scott?

Why would Scott stop me returning to the sea?

"Please Gordon, please."

Why would he want me back, after everything I'd done? After everything I've failed to do?

"Please…"

It was only a tiny whisper, and his eyes were so very desperate, that I did the only thing I could do. I reached up and took his arm, strengthening the waning hold he had on me, and I let him pull me up, the relief in his eyes so overwhelming I couldn't think to help.

And then there were arms around me, and warm, wet drops falling on me. He rocked me, backwards and forwards, and it was much more comforting that the times I'd done it to myself. All the time whispering.

"Thank God, Thank God… you're alive…"

And maybe, just maybe, I was.

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